


The best hugs are so soft

by mangojuicee



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men Crying, Mutual Pining, allusions to the fall, older randall ascott/herhsel layton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangojuicee/pseuds/mangojuicee
Summary: Hershel wakes up a disaster after a terrible nightmare. Luckily Randall is visiting for the week.
Relationships: Randall Ascot/Hershel Layton
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	The best hugs are so soft

First it was total darkness. Young Hershel looked around briskly, but cautiously, a terrible feeling gripping the pit of his stomach. 

Then came the shrill, desperate scream he knew so well. The kind you only barely manage to shriek when you feel your very life slipping through your fingers. Hershel froze in terror, his breathing shallow. He looked down. 

Randall's eyes were full of panic and tears. He was clawing at the edges of a widening chasm. The more he cried for his life, the wider and deeper it seemed the chasm became. 

Hershel gasped, and suddenly his body became too heavy to support. He collapsed to his knees just at the edge of the ever growing chasm, and frantically reached out to his friend, still scrambling for life. Their arms locked, and the little cliff beneath Randall's body completely eroded. Randall's life was, in every sense of the phrase, entirely in Hershel's hands.

Tears started streaming down Hershel's face. "Randall! I c-can't hold on!!" Their hands were sweaty and grimy. His grip was loosening.

"No!!! Hershel!!!!" Randall sobbed. "You can't let me die like this!!" 

The two locked eyes for a moment. The ground below them shivered and trembled, Hershel almost lost his grip on Randall for a horrifying moment, causing Randall to let out the most blood curdling, ear-piercing screech. But Hershel reached down further and just barely caught his Randall by the ends of his fingers just in time. Randall was weeping, his voice quivering. "Please… Hershel…" They locked eyes once more, but they already knew. Hershel's grimace said it all. He was too weak. He just couldn't do it. 

Hershel sobbed harder. He could do nothing but watch as he felt Randall's fingers in his hand slipping, despite all his efforts. From four to three to two, until he was just hanging on to his pinky. He could barely see his friend anymore through the screen of his hot tears. 

"Randall...R-RANDALL!! NO!!" 

A cruel breeze blew through Hershel's empty fingers. 

Randall screamed. His hand reaching up, his eyes getting smaller by the second, his tears lost to the chasm. He was falling. Randall was falling and there was nothing that Hershel could do but watch tragically, reach out, and cry his name.

"RANDALL!! RANDAAAAAAAAAAAALL!!!"

________________________

Hershel bolted up. It was dark. He could feel his entire body covered in icy sweat, and tears rushing down his cheeks. His mind was foggy from the sheer terror that his body was in. For a long moment, he didn't even know where he was, all he saw was panic. It was far too overwhelming, so he closed his eyes and sobbed quietly. Slowly though, he felt his hands touch something soft. He felt sheets and a mattress… a bedroom… no, his bedroom. Hershel stumbled off of his bed and through pure muscle memory alone, managed to find the light switch. Harsh yellow light abruptly melted the cold icy darkness. He found his bedroom mirror and started touching his face to make sure the image in front of his eyes really matched the feeling in his hands. He managed to take a deep, shaky breath. 

He was in his mid 30s again. Hair long, but not like it used to be. He wiped his tears away in short-lived relief. But they quickly returned. A sudden, overwhelming sense of fear washed over him, the kind that chilled the body and made it shake intensely. Without thinking, he burst out his bedroom door and stumbled into the living room. He didn't know if there was a rock in his stomach or if he just felt lingering panic. His eyes took a few moments to truly absorb what he saw in front of him. The soft moonlight and dim street lamps were enough to light up the living room he was in just enough to be completely visible. There on his couch laid the very same Randall, older of course, but hair still red and skin still dark, though he had blankets covering him now. He'd just arrived in town for a visit, and now laid peacefully on Hershel's rather small living room couch, facing away from him, breathing slowly, up and down. 

The sight was enough for even more tears to spill from his eyes. He couldn't help but stand and stare as he soaked up the warm feeling of safety and calm. He breathed in sharply through sobs.  _ Thank goodness _ , he sighed.

Randall stirred, sensing noise and a general disturbance in the room. He opened his eyes, and slowly turned. Hershel panicked, not wanting to cause a scene like this, and briskly turned around to conceal his face. But he had already been spotted. 

"...Hersh?" Randalls voice was groggy. He turned on a small lamp at a table next to him. A wonderfully dim and warm light gently brushed through the small living room. Hershel froze, quivering, and immediately Randall sensed something was wrong. His blanket rolled down his chest a bit as he sat up. "Is… everything alright there, Hershel?"

Hershel brought his arms to a cross and squeezed them together nervously. He tried as best he could to wipe the tears from his eyes that would not stop welling. Slowly, fearfully, he turned around to face Randall. He looked at his own feet instead of his friend's eyes in an attempt to hide the emotions he wore on his sleeve, but one glance was all Randall needed to tell that Hershel was in shambles. It made Randall gasp briskly, worry spilling out of his voice. Hershel winced at the sound of Randall's concern, and couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut, causing the tears already re-forming in his eyes to spill once again.

Randall almost immediately pulled the blankets away and made a space for Hershel to sit next to him, tapping gently on the couch to invite him. Hershel looked up a bit at the sound. Though he wanted nothing more than to leave without causing a scene, he craved the closeness being offered, and found himself slowly shuffling right where he had been invited without thinking twice.

Randall scooted up very close to Hershel, until their legs brushed up against each other, and reached his arm around Hershel's shoulder, pulling him close. "Is this ok?" Randall asked. Hershel sniffled and nodded. 

Hershel did not lean in to Randall's kindness at first. He felt so weak and pathetic. He hated causing a scene almost as much as he hated being seen crying. Especially with Randall, his best friend. Hershel was still reconnecting with him from all these years they had spent apart. Bothering him with any of his personal issues felt so rude and deeply ungentlemanly. But as he felt the touch of Randall's hand pulling Hershel in towards him, Hershel's bleeding heart just couldn't put up with his heartache any longer. He sank his head deep into Randall's bare chest and started weeping loudly and shaking uncontrollably.

Of course, Randall cared less in that moment about manners and etiquette. He'd never seen his best friend like this. It was so unlike him to ever show anything other than vague disappointment or mild amusement. The stark change in character was incredibly worrying, to say the least. He pulled Hershel even closer, leaning back on the couch's armrest and bringing Hershel in with him, turning Hershel's whole body towards him instead of just having Hershel's shoulder reclining on his chest, so he could lay more comfortably on top of Randall. Randall closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Hershel's, combing through his hair with one hand and gently massaging his back with the thumb of his other.

He was in such disbelief when Hershel finally managed to spit some words out of his mouth. 

"I… I'm s-sorry… Randall, I'm  _ s-so sorry _ …" 

Randall gently shifted his hand from the top of Hershel's head, passing dawn his cheek to reach his jaw, lifting it softly to look him in the eyes. He winced at the look they had in them. They were so genuine and broken, full of tears spilling regret, and lacked their usual twinkle. Randall smiled, despite his worried eyebrows, and raised the hand on Hershel's jaw up to caress his cheek. 

"...For what, dear? You have nothing to be sorry for-" But Hershel cut him off with a sharp inhale before Randall could continue. 

"N-No! I was t-too weak. I couldn't lift you up, a-a-and you… y-you d-died… I couldn't save you and you died!! you… y-y-you-!!" The knot in Hershel's throat pulled too tightly, and his words melted into a hoarse bawling. He pulled his face away from Randall's hand in shame and buried it deeper into his friend's chest, clutching him tighter than Randall thought Hershel was capable of. "I'M SO  _ PATHETIC _ !!!" 

Randall's eyes popped wide open for a moment, caught incredibly off guard. He shook his head and held him even closer, combing through Hershel's hair again. "What? Hey, you're not pathetic… There was nothing you could do, dear. You… Hershel… You're not… I didn't…  _ Hershel~ _ ." But Randall's words did little to calm Hershel down. Still he trembled, still he cried. Randall bit his lip. He could feel Hershel's broken heart beating harsh on his chest. 

"Oh, Hershel…" He sighed, and squeezed him tighter still. "Shhhhhh, it's alright, I'm right here. Breath, dear, I'm here… I'm here."

Randall rested his cheek on the top of Hershel's head and closed his eyes, still stroking Hershel's hair ever so softly. They stayed like that for a while. Poor Hershel couldn't stop crying. Every now and then, a particularly painful sob would escape his throat, and Randall could only comfort him with a soft "I'm here now, I'm here." 

Oh what Randall would have given to be able to soak up Hershel's grief that night like a sponge. Every bone in his body felt heavy. 

Gradually, Hershel's breathing started slowing down. The beat of his heart softened. His grip on Randall eased, no longer clinging on to him like his life depended on it, but resting comfortably on top of him. His eyes kept drowsily closing, then fluttering open again for a moment, only to drift back down again, opening less and less as the time went on, until they didn't open anymore. 

Randall hardly noticed his friend drifting off. He was lost in his own thoughts. ' _ Is he comfortable? Am I? What could he have been dreaming of…'  _ a sick feeling turned in his stomach. He had a pretty good idea what Hershel had awakened from. He sighed, and looked down to see how his favorite gentleman was doing. 

"Feeling better Hersh?" He asked, but was met with silence. He blinked a few times, a bit concerned. "...Hersh?" he asked again, cocking his head to the side to get a better view of Hershel's face. He couldn't help but chuckle just a bit seeing his friend sleeping peacefully. How comforting it was to see Hershel calmed down enough to fall asleep in his arms like this. It was enough to put a smile on Randall's slightly blushing face. "Oh, Hershel." he said, mostly to himself now, with a lighthearted scoff. He delicately, ever so softly, kissed the top of Hershel's head. "Please… you'll… oh, you're gonna make me fall in love with you again like this." 

He could feel his own eyes drooping, the exhaustion of the night catching up to his body. He kissed the top of Hershel's head one last time goodnight while he still had the chance before slowly turning the small lamp back off, careful not to awaken his Hershel, and drifted off to sleep. 

They both slept soundly for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for reading! Im very shy about writing but ive always got ideas floating around in my head so let me know if u want to see more 💖💖


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